


Heartbreaker

by TheLanternWretch



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Manipulation, Rape, Strong Language, Violence, mentai abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 07:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLanternWretch/pseuds/TheLanternWretch
Summary: Causing other people pain gives Thresh nothing but pleasure - he was no different when he was alive, though the methods of pain were different. To him, running through lady after lady was nothing more but an exhilarating experience that petted his ego and need to harm others. What's one more break up?





	Heartbreaker

**Author's Note:**

> As with the other pre-death Thresh drabbles on this account, this is my personal headcanon for the character who would pass on and come back undead as the champion we know as Thresh. He was characterized as a womanizer on my Thresh blog, enjoying playing with the heart strings of both men and women whenever he could, never settling down, never staying with one partner. He was supposed to be an absolute bastard, even before his death, and I felt writing a little snippet of it would help that image along. Again, you'll notice he goes by Arrin still and not by his family's last name of Thresh. Being known only as Thresh came later after he became a wraith.

“I don’t understand!” Hot tears spilled down tan cheeks as Alys cried, sitting on the lounge in her parent’s parlor. 

The decor was proper, nice, clean… everything you’d expect from a couple who were both respected officials in the neighboring large town. They were appalled to find out their daughter had fallen for a farm boy from a nearby village, especially one who spent all day being dirty and working the fields. However, he had presented himself rather favorably to them and they had understood at once why their daughter had allowed herself to be courted. He was well-spoken for a field worker; his mother had educated him the best she could have growing up and he actually did like reading books. He was also quite charming and had a dashing smile and certainly seemed like he would produce sons as strong as himself or daughters just as clever. 

If only they knew the same boy they were smitten with was breaking their daughter's heart in their own home. 

“What’s to understand?” Arrin asked, crossing his arms. “I don’t feel for you, anymore. I figured you’d rather me be honest than to try and pretend and hurt your fragile feelings more than I am now.” He questioned, raising his eyebrows. “You really should have seen this coming.” He further said, smirking when she looked away to dry her tears only to wipe it off his face as soon as she looked back.

“H-how?” She inquired, pulling out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes, the black powder that she had so diligently applied earlier on her lashes starting to run, her seemingly flawless beauty melting away as dark-colored tears dripped and stripped the rouge on her cheeks away in lines where the tears ran. “I-I don’t understand, I did everything you ever wanted!” She choked out. “I even did some things I d-didn’t want to just to make you happy!” 

“Yes, but almost… too easy.” He admitted, kneeling to look into her face. “You wanted to get married and start a family but I don’t think I could start one with you, darling.” He confessed, not bothering to reach out and dry her eyes. 

“Why?” She hiccuped, doing her best to look her in the eyes. 

“My  _dear_ ,” He started with, “You pulled me along and lied. How can I trust you? You were so eager to please, so willing to spread your legs only hours after we met. I’m looking for a woman who is pure, loyal, willing to settle. Not some painted whore.” His voice was soft despite the words coming from his mouth.

“I’m not a whore!” She snapped. “You damn well know you’re the first man I’ve ever had!” She insisted, smearing her make-up further. “I told you that the night we met!”

“No woman could fuck like that and be a virgin.” He said darkly, staring at her. “I thought, perhaps, you’d be different from other girls who had bewitched me but you’re just like every one I’ve had. They promise to be different, to be better, but in the end, you’re all the same. Just another slut trying to become a wife.” He stands, shaking his head.

“I-I haven’t done anything! I never even looked at another man-!”

“Then what’s all this?” He waved at the face she had painstakingly painted up, the tightly tied bodice with her breasts flirtatiously peaking out from the top of her gown with a golden necklace nearly resting in her cleavage. “You were obviously looking for attention.” He states, making a face. “And the other night, you were even worse! I saw you talking to other men that night, flirting and hiding behind your little fan and gossiping. Please, you were looking for an easy target.” 

“I did it for you!” She wailed. “I wanted to look nice for you, to make others jealous that you had me! That I had  _you!”_ Her crying continued as she resorted to using her hands to rub her face, the piece of cloth no longer enough. 

“Don’t lie to me. You were clearly looking for attention from anyone who would look at you. You didn’t have to impress me; you already had me, stupid girl.” His tone starts to shift, the charm disappearing and an icy coldness seeping into his voice. “What would your parents say if they knew that their daughter wasn’t satisfied with the boy that had won their hearts? Ooh that’s right, they’re not going to be getting any grandchildren now, are they?” He tutted, shaking his head again. “What will they say? You know how they thought we’d make such good heirs.” 

“No, that’s not true!” She kicked her feet, the heels of her shoes clacking off the polished stone floor in protest. “I never wanted another man, I was happy! We were happy!” She insisted. “We can still be happy, Arrin!” 

“Nah, I’m not falling into this trap.” He waved her off, feigning a look of emotional pain on his face as though the idea of breaking up genuinely hurt him. 

“It’s not a trap! I love you!” She stood up, reaching out for him. “Arrin, Arrin please-!” She yelped as he grabbed her wrist, pulling it up high and squeezing. “Ow, stop it! You’re hurting me!” She sniffled, trying to pull her arm free.

“Listen. It’s over, Alys. Go be someone else’s slut. It should be easy. You have a pretty face and a tight little pussy. That’s all you need to get what you want, right? Because that’s all you’re good for. You’re nothing but a few holes to stick a cock in, so, go on. Find someone who doesn’t mind a girl who’s already been used.” He pushed her away and watched her stumble, amused.

“How  _DARE_  you!” She yelled, raising her hand to strike him.

“Go ahead. I dare you.” He spread his arms and lowered his head to make it easier for her. She stood, frozen, arm shaking. Her glare slowly slipped away as a new fresh wave of tears came, her arm dropping as her hands came to her face and she sobbed.

“See? You couldn’t hit me because you knew I was right.” His voice became buttery smooth again, disarming. “There, now, don’t cry. It’s not your fault. That’s just how you are. You’re not the woman I want but someone will have you, and if not for you, for your money. It’ll work out, sweetheart. But remember, you could have had me for the rest of your life had you took more care of yourself. No respectable man wants a little sinner for a wife and mother.” 

“Here’s what I’ll do.” He offered, reaching out and tipping up her chin. She blinked at him, hiccoughing, the red she had on her lips smeared from her hands. “I’ll never mention anything about you to anyone. I won’t tell them how you were dying to be promiscuous, to fuck men who are kind to you. In fact, I’ll pretend we never were a thing. Your reputation is safe with me. That’ll give you a chance. In return, you do the same. Forget all about the man you chased off with your scandalous behavior and habits.”

She sniffled, looking him dead in the eye. “You’re a monster.” She accused, tearing her head out of his grasp.

With a sigh, he grabbed her by the hair. She screamed, but they were alone in the house. Her parents were gone and it was the day off for the few servants they had - they wouldn’t be back until nightfall. “Let’s try this again.” He reached to his belt, sliding out a small knife he kept on his person to cut rope and sever plants while working. He dragged her close, pressing the cold steel to her throat. Her tears continued though she fell silent.

“You’re going to forget about me, and me, you.” He repeated. “That is, if you want your reputation untarnished and your face to still be as cute as it is. I’d hate to explain to your parents how you hurt yourself in a fit of madness after you realized that it was your fault that I left.” He pressed the edge to her skin just hard enough for her to feel how sharp the blade was but not enough to draw blood.

“I’m only a monster because of you. You made me do this, and you know it. You think you can try to smooth it over with some honeyed words and a few flutters of powdered eyelashes but I’m smarter than that.” 

He held her there, watching her swallow, hearing her breathe nervously. “Maybe you need to be reminded of your place; of what you are. I’ll show you why I’m leaving. I bet if I forced myself on your right now, you’d be wet and needy, only proving my point. Let’s test it.” The knife traveled from her throat to the top of her dress, fabric starting to sever.

“Please, don’t-” She started, trying to grab his hand but he only curled his fingers in her hair tighter and gave her a rough shake, laughing as she yelped in pain. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t want it. What happened to the vixen I met? The one who moaned and screamed while I ate her cunt? Who perfected saying my name when i fucked her? Are you trying to play innocent now? Come, Alys, you’re only going to be showing me what I’ve already seen many times.” He threw her onto the floor before pouncing on top of her, his hand covering her mouth as she screamed.

—–

It was only about half an hour later when Arrin left, smiling. He was right, she was wet, and even better, she had admitted to being a little tramp. He left her, sore, bruised, head spinning. He was already composing a letter to her parents - who would they believe? Their daughter who was covered in bite marks and bruises or the poor boy who was lead astray by their she-devil of a daughter who they had noticed had been dressing up more than usual? The man who everyone admired, the one who helped everyone and even babysat children or the girl who never lifted a finger to do any work in her life? Who had been conversing with suitors at balls before Arrin showed up? Clearly, the poor field worker wouldn’t turn down a rich daughter without a compelling reason. 

This one had been fun. She lasted almost four months; he’d taken some of their things here or there and pawned it for money when they weren’t looking. Things they wouldn’t miss, of course - a few silverware pieces, an expensive trinket from the main continent that was pushed to the back of a cabinet; even a few cuttings from a rare flower from some place they called ‘Ionia’ that he had planted behind his house that had taken root. 

Arrin was just about outside the city when a curvaceous redhead caught his eye. She was covered in robes and had a sling of books over her shoulder as she perused a fruit seller’s wares, lifting things and frowning. He swerved over, smiling. “Oh, dear, you don’t want any of those.” He stated, ignoring the look from the merchant. “If you’re going to get anything, get these. Everything else here was picked too early and not ripe yet.” He handed her a bright yellow fruit with a smile and she shyly smiled back.

“Thank you.” She placed the fruit into her basket. 

“Not a problem. I grow these on my own farm, so I know what to look for. I don’t want to see a pretty little thing like you paying for something that’s still bitter.” 

“That’s very kind of you!” She smiled wider. “Where are you from?” 

“I can tell you while I help you pick out other things, if you’d like.” He offered. “I don’t have anything else to do.” 

“Oh, that would be delightful!” She admitted, resting her hand in his while he offered it. “I’m afraid I don’t know too much about what’s ripe or over ripe or… well, I’m … I’m more a reader than anything. History is easy for me, produce? Not so much.”

“Well, here, I’ll help you out, and in the meantime, tell me what’s in all those books you have.” 

He led her down the street to a few more vendors, smiling kindly and listening to her sheepishly ramble on about whatever she was reading.

As they say, you always catch more flies with honey. 


End file.
